


There Was A Boy

by reet_reet



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dec. 15th stream, Gen, One Shot, Suicidal Thoughts, Tommy-centric, tommy angst, tommy is a hot mess ngl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:00:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28130544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reet_reet/pseuds/reet_reet
Summary: Tommy's had enough of Dream "watching" him. He decided to leave Logstedshire behind for good.A re-write of Tommy running from Logstedshire from the Dec. 15th stream. Kinda a character study.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 14
Kudos: 181





	There Was A Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello hello! Just a quick tw before we begin: suicidal thoughts, minor injuries.
> 
> I wrote this while I was watching the stream and just left it in my notes for like 2 whole days, so I decided to just post it! The ending is a lil rushed, but frankly im too lazy to re write it. Its a short fic, only about 1K words! (Also oh my GOD all the streams on the 16th just tore at my heart strings)
> 
> Enjoy!

There was a boy stomping across the prairies. 

The sweet-smelling grass tickled his one bare foot and his ankles where the cuffs of his pant leg had torn away. The boy didn’t laugh at the sensation. Instead, he trudged on with a snarl carved into his features. 

This boy went by the name of Tommy, but those who knew him best might question if it really were him if they were to see Tommy now. Rips marred his favourite red and white crewneck t-shirt, revealing old cuts that would’ve healed without a mark left behind if they’d had the proper treatment. The only place where his eyes weren't rimmed in red were the bags underneath, so dark and heavy that it seemed as if they were dragging young Tommy’s entire face down with them. Veins of red spread into the whites of his eyes as well, inflamed by tears that were shed only moments ago. And right at the center of his eyes lay his irises, typically an unnaturally bright blue, now unexplainably dulled to a near-grey. 

Tommy was angry. Angry at his old friends, angry at his family, angry at the world, but most of all he was angry at Dream. Dream was supposed to care for him. Dream was supposed to look after him. Dream was supposed to be his only friend left. But no, instead of looking after him, Dream was _watching_ him. Making sure he didn’t try to bite the hand that "fed him". 

But pissing him off was the wrong move on Dream’s part. Now Tommy was ready to fight back. 

Fingernails dug into Tommy’s arm as he filtered his pent up rage. He had been wronged all his life by those he treasured. What was one more time going to do? 

In his state of distress, Tommy hardly noticed when the air became more frigid. In fact, he only noticed that his breath was freezing into clouds when a sudden snowflake landing on his nose startled him out of his thoughts. 

His arms fell loosely at his side as Tommy turned his head upwards while he continued his trek. Snow was beginning to drift to the ground, placing small wet splotches on his shirt. 

With a deep breath, fresh and cold air filled Tommy's lungs. Snowflakes dusted his eyelashes, and for some reason, Tommy felt much lighter than before. As if the troubles weighing him down were suddenly insignificant. A smile played on his lips as Tommy spotted a spruce tree covered in snow up ahead and picked up his pace. 

There was a boy running through the woods.

He was not running out of fear though, he was running with joy. Weeks of energy that he thought he could never access again burst forth.

Giggles bubbled, and eventually lead to laughter. Tommy sprinted and jumped, dancing in the white powder on the ground. There was no snow in L’Manburg, Pogtopia, or even Logstedshire. But there was snow here. A bright and new future smiled at him, and he smiled back. Tommy hadn’t felt this free in a long time.

He ran and ran, hooted and hollered. He laughed his high, shrieking laugh that his brothers used to tease him relentlessly for (oh, what he wouldn’t give to go back to those days). Tommy had no care for which direction he went in. He was free. He could go wherever he pleased, scream as loud as he wanted, and dance as much as he could. Nobody could see him through these thick, white, wintery woods. 

Blood specked the formerly pristine snow behind him. It seemed as if Tommy had cut his foot on a particularly sharp patch of icy slush mixed with gravel in his celebration of living to the next day. If he were to take a closer look at his single bare foot, Tommy would see multiple tiny gashes, no wider than that of his pinkie nail, decorating the bottom of his foot. But Tommy couldn’t bring himself to care. Instead, blood continued to spot gently against the snow behind him, leaving a bright red mark that screamed  _ “I was here!” _ .

Bending down, Tommy scooped up a pile of snow that he formed into a haphazardly shaped ball. He chucked it at a tree, laughing as he hit his target dead on. 

“Yeah!" He cheered, his cheeks a jolly red colour. “Fuck you, bitch!”

He whirled around and stuck his two middle fingers up, this time directing his cry towards some imaginary person Tommy pictured in the sky as he screamed, “fuck you!” 

He hooted again, screaming profanities at the memories of old friends and foes. Weight was lifted off his chest and his feet fluttered across the ground.

The sun was slowly beginning to set and Tommy enjoyed prancing in its dying moments of warmth. He whooped louder and louder, his throat going hoarse. While shouting amalgamations of “fuck you, I did it, I’m alive bitch, I’m back, he’s scared of me,” and every so often the names of the people who were once his friends, he didn’t even notice the fresh tears that had started streaming down his face until he let out a horribly ugly hiccup. As his hand darted to his face to catch a tear, he sunk to his knees.

There was a boy kneeling in the snow.

Golden rays of light from the setting sun reflected off the trampled white ground and caught on the tears now steadily flowing down Tommy’s cheeks. The sunlight caused them to sparkle in such a bright and beautiful manner, it was hard to believe that they weren’t liquified jewels. 

Tommy’s sobs had begun from a place of relief. All of the pressure collecting in his heart and numbing him beyond the point of feeling emotion had finally been released in a sudden snap. He had screamed until he no longer could for the first time in a very, very long time. He was  _ himself _ again. 

The feeling of freedom was overwhelming to the boy. Freedom like this hadn’t been in his life ever since he was a child put to war. Finally, finally,  _ finally,  _ he didn’t have anyone looking over his shoulder, anyone waiting for him to slip up, or anyone watching him (as Dream would put it). He was alone. 

Suddenly, Tommy’s tears were welled up from a place of something more than just relief. He was alone. This time, really truly alone. He could just fuck off to anywhere, and nobody would care.

The cold seemed to only suddenly strike him then, as the day was on its last dying minutes. Snow melted its way through the knees of his pants and into his bones. Frostnip was beginning to form on his foot that he only realized was throbbing in dull pain now. The wind was picking up, tousling his already dirt and blood stained hair with it’s biting temperatures. He was so cold.

In that moment, Tommy wished that he could be back in the nether and ready to jump in the ocean of lava, just to feel warmth again.

Just as quick as the thought arrived, Tomy banished it from his mind. The sudden relapse had left him crying harder, shaking like a leaf in the middle of nowhere.

Tommy was alone. Tommy was cold. Tommy just wanted to see Tubbo again. He wanted to sit on a worn oak bench, unprofessionally made and covered with splinters. He wanted to hear the bouncing tune of Cat, or the melancholic melody of Mellohi. He wanted to watch the sunset alongside his best friend, not catch glimpses of it through blurry tears, large snowflakes, and dark green leaves. 

There were so many things that he longed for. So many things that were taunting him, just out of his reach. 

But wasn’t that just it? 

Tommy had been taunted by the unreachable his whole life. His older brothers were both prodigies. His best friend was incredibly kind and mature for his age. Tommy was the screw up left with the highest of expectations. The Vice to everyone else’s President.

And yet Tommy had never let that get him down before. In fact, it had been his motivator. He pushed himself to train more, to do better, because he was surrounded by the best. He reached for his goals and got what he wanted. He worked, he persevered, and he fought to get done what he felt needed to be done.

Tommy had lost sight of that motivation for a bit as Dream stripped him piece by piece of his identity. But he was back now. Tommy was back. And he had work to do. Discs to reclaim, friends to see, and tyrants to rid of for once and for all.

With his determination found once again, he stumbled to his feet and began a forward march. Although he still shook, his steps were steady and strong. 

Gentle puffs of smoke rose from the horizon. Tommy smiled softly as he recognized the general area that he found himself in, and walked directly towards the odd clouds floating away from the ground. 

There was a boy striding to where he needed to be.

Confidence and bravery drove him forwards. Tommy had a purpose once more. And he knew exactly where to start.

It was time for a little reunion. 

**Author's Note:**

> Ayyyyyyyy!
> 
> Thanks to Noki for helping me with the title! I dont really know what else to say here but i felt like putting notes at the end so here you go. Hope ya liked it!


End file.
